


Scars

by caffeinated_pens



Series: The Appointment in Samarra [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mycroft-centric, Other, Self-Harm, Suicidal Mycroft, Uncle Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 00:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11634966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinated_pens/pseuds/caffeinated_pens
Summary: John brings baby Rosie to the hospital to visit.





	Scars

Mycroft woke up in the arms of his brother, with both Sherlock and Dr. Watson looking down at him. “Good morning, brother mine, Doct-”

“John,” the army doctor corrected him.

“Right.” He nodded. “Good morning, Sherlock, John.” He sat up. John was holding his daughter, Rosamund. “I see you’ve brought the baby.”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“You wanna hold her?” John could clearly sense that he very much did. Mycroft became a bit flustered and blushed slightly.

“I, um… Sure… Yes, please.”

“Okay then.” He held out the grinning little girl. “Say hello to Uncle Mycroft,” he cooed to her as the older man extended his hands and reached for the child. The newly dubbed uncle was feeling increasingly nervous, even though he would never admit to it. He hadn’t held a baby since Sherlock and Eurus were young.

“Uncle Mycroft?” He was deeply honored by the title, but he was even more confused as to why John thought he deserved it. And it really did sadden John to see the confusion on his face, it reminded him of the time he asked Sherlock to be his best man. The Holmes’s weren’t used to having friends.

“That day… When everything happened… Sherlock called me his family. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that makes you and me family as well.” He smiled, and Mycroft smiled back a genuine smile, not just the fake one he gave to all the goldfish politicians he was normally forced to meet with on a daily basis.

The baby giggled. It startled him a bit at first, but then he just looked at the laughing infant, what a wonderful child. He could tell just by looking at her that she was going to be incredibly smart like her mother, even more so if Sherlock and Mycroft spent a good amount of time with her. John and Sherlock both winced, the former standing up as though to take her back when she grabbed Mycroft's arms. “It's okay,” he assured them as the army doctor sat back down. Rosie reached across his arms and traced the many scars with her tiny fingers. Mycroft didn't didn't move or do anything, she was a child, children were bound to be curious.

She started to cry. It seemed as though she could register that these were marks of pain. A smart child indeed, although it was hard to tell whether it was her mother’s genes, or if Sherlock was starting to rub off on her. Then the thought occurred to him that she still had no idea what these scars meant. Then it occurred to him that one day she would, and she would know why he had them. Then the worst thought forced its way into his mind: one day she might have her own scars, be them self inflicted or otherwise. He didn't want that to happen, he wanted her to be safe.

He wrapped the hysterical infant in his arms. Despite what he had told his brother, he did know what to do with a crying baby. He knew he would never be a father, he knew it from a young age. He knew he would never be an uncle either, he knew that he and his siblings were different, that they weren't the types of people who could have families. But here he was, holding his niece, even though he wasn't related to her through blood or through marriage, she was his niece and he knew that this tiny human was going to take up a large place in his heart.


End file.
